The Manoeuvring Mother (Vol. 1-3). Lady Charlotte Campbell Bury
queer. If it was not about Tom, I can't imagine the cause of Pen's bit of a faint, just when she was to congratulate him upon his engagement! I am sure Pen never would faint about a trifle; and, as to her driving, it's all my eye: my brother Bill put her upon the coach-box as soon as she could walk."
"Perhaps it is mental agitation of another kind," softly remarked Lady Ennismore.
"Pooh, pooh!—Pen has no mental agitation, Lady Ennismore. What should ail her to faint about any thing, if it wasn't Tom's marriage? My sister Hancock had always a horror of their marrying, only I thought nothing about it.—How was I to fancy Pen liked Tom, when she was always with Charles Spottiswoode?"
Lady Ennismore appeared politely convinced, by her companion's reasoning, that Miss Wycherly's faintness proceeded from her cousin's insensibility to her attachment, when the door was thrown open to announce Lord Farnborough and Lady Anna Herbert. Miss Wycherly cast an eye of alarm towards the hall. Lord Farnborough stalked majestically forward with his daughter under his arm, and Mr. Spottiswoode followed too surely in their train. She started up—"Julia, I cannot stay here; follow me into the library."
Both ladies disappeared during the little bustle of a fresh reception, and Lady Ennismore alone observed their rapid exit. Miss Wycherly closed the door of the library, to secure themselves from interruption or intrusion; she then took off her hat, and, seating herself at the library-table, she rested her head upon her hands, while the tears flowed copiously down her cheeks. "Julia," she said—"Julia, I cannot endure this; I have lost him, and my heart will break."
Julia sat down opposite her companion, and vainly offered consolation.
"Don't attempt to console me, Julia," sobbed poor Miss Wycherly.
"I am past all consolation. The creature has never visited Lidham since that abominable night at Lady Spottiswoode's, and now he is capering after Lady Anna Herbert. Oh, Julia, if you could comprehend the misery I feel!"
"My dear Penelope, you never confessed your fault to Charles Spottiswoode, I fear, by all this grief. Have you tried to see him, or written to him since your quarrel?"
The Wycherly blood rushed into the very forehead of Penelope. She raised her head and dashed away the tears.
"Who! I beg submissively for Spottiswoode's forgiveness! I meanly sue for pardon to a man who has been my slave till this Lady Anna has attracted him! I tell him to return to Lidham, because I cannot live without him! I'll die ten thousand deaths, before I will sully my lips in imploring pardon!"
"But, Penelope, you are not reduced to implore pardon," replied Julia, in soothing accents. "You are not advised to act in any way degrading to your feelings. Did you not trifle most ungenerously with Mr. Spottiswoode at your last meeting, and have you made one advance since that time, to prove to him you were in jest?"
Miss Wycherly again drooped her head upon her hands, as she replied—"He has given me no opportunity to do so, Julia: he has been ever since that evening devoted to the Farnboroughs."
"And you have been equally devoted to the Tyndals, Penelope. Have you not made Henry Tyndal your shadow?"
"A great spoony!" ejaculated Miss Wycherly.
"Put an end to all this," resumed Julia, "and give Mr. Spottiswoode reason to think you regret your unjust conduct; decline Henry Tyndal's constant attendance, and do not bring upon yourself the Court Herbert reproaches. You are encouraging Henry Tyndal, Penelope, and Mr. Spottiswoode must perceive it."
"I know I have done wrong, Julia, but every thing is gone too far; I cannot, cannot subject myself to Spottiswoode's scorn; he will never forgive me, and I will never bear the indignity of seeking a hopeless reconciliation. If I have suffered Henry Tyndal's attentions, he has sought Lady Anna Herbert. No, we are divided for ever!"
The idea of a final separation from her lover's affection, seemed to produce agony of mind too powerful to endure, for, Miss Wycherly, rising suddenly, seized Julia's hands, and gazed earnestly in her face.
"Julia Wetheral, I will act upon your advice, only tell me what to do, if any thing now can restore his heart; I am wretched enough to submit to any thing short of the degradation of seeking a man's extinguished affection! You will not wish me to do a wrong thing, Julia, therefore, think for me, and quiet my heart."
"I will tell you what to do, Penelope; return with me into the drawing-room; do not give your attention to Mr. Henry Tyndal, and do not appear so indifferent to a man you have driven from you with unkindness."
"Julia," replied Miss Wycherly, breathing hard, "I cannot bear to see Spottiswoode with another person. I cannot witness his attention to Lady Anna. I will remain here till they are gone, or I should die upon the spot. If you could understand my miserable feelings, you would pity me, and my own folly has produced them!"
Miss Wycherly walked about the library in great distress, which pierced her friend's heart to witness. She could only offer her sympathy, and urge her change of manners towards Mr. Tyndal. Grief produces many effects; on some minds the hand of sorrow falls heavily, yet it originates patience and gentleness; in others, it produces irritation and increased violence of temper. It was so with Miss Wycherly, whose spirit chafed at the remembrance of her own folly, and even attacked the prudent counsel of her friend.
"I tell you, Julia, I am ready to spurn the Tyndals from my sight; for who can despise them more than I do?—but it is useless to place before me, so pertinaciously, my folly in having borne with them. I am well aware of my error, without requiring any one to heap my transgressions before my eyes at every turn. Reproach never heals a wound."
"I do not speak in reproach, Penelope," replied Julia, in accents that overcame Miss Wycherly's quick temper; "I only point out the means to serve you, because you asked me to do so."
"Don't heed my words, Julia," exclaimed Miss Wycherly, continuing her restless walking up and down the library; "I speak in bitter misery, and know not what I say. Do not leave me, for I know you are kind, and not given to take offence, and I am almost maddened with vexation. Tell me what to do, Julia, and I swear to be guided by you."
"I repeat my words, then, Penelope. Return with me into the drawing-room; do not give Mr. Henry Tyndal all your attention, and bear with Mr. Spottiswoode's attention to Lady Anna: it will not last long."
"Oh, Julia!" sighed Miss Wycherly, "if I could but think you a true prophet—but I will do as you wish; I will try to bear the sight of Lady Anna, but the idea gives me a shuddering fit. See how I tremble."
"You do tremble, Penelope, but a determined effort will subdue it."
Julia rubbed Miss Wycherly's hands, which were deadly cold, and replaced her hat, as the poor girl sat trembling, and incapable of assisting herself. Julia also smoothed the curls which fell in abundance upon her pale cheeks. "And now, Penelope, take my arm, and let us take one steady turn through the room, to try your powers."
Miss Wycherly took Julia's offered arm, and proceeded towards the door. "Let us go into the drawing-room at once," she said. "With you I have given way, because I am assured of your sympathy and secrecy; but to no other eye will I betray my repentance or my sorrow. I may look ill—I am ill—but no one shall say Penelope Wycherly pines for Charles Spottiswoode."
Miss Wycherly's sentiment operated at once upon her nerves and manners: no one could suppose she had just suffered a strong nervous attack, by the collected air of her entrance again into company. It was only the pallid complexion and calm demeanour, which betrayed recent illness to her friends; and Mrs. Pynsent, satisfied that her niece could never struggle against her disappointment with Tom, offered her every little soothing attention, and even seated her where she could not observe her cousin, still conversing with Anna Maria: her chair was placed near the window, immediately opposite to Mr. Spottiswoode and Lady Anna Herbert.
"There, Pen, dear, air will refresh you; but you have driven too far, I dare say: there, look straight before you, and don't keep turning round."
Lady Anna Herbert made a very polite speech, hoping Miss Wycherly had not been seriously ill, and Miss Wycherly passed through the